Yours portly has returned from his vacation, dear friends. I apologize for all of the super-short posts lately, but things should be returning to normal soon (hopefully by tomorrow).
Thanks for your patience and support!
—TPP
Yours portly has returned from his vacation, dear friends. I apologize for all of the super-short posts lately, but things should be returning to normal soon (hopefully by tomorrow).
Thanks for your patience and support!
—TPP
I finally groped my way up to the attic (my ankle is healed enough to allow it now) and pulled down the Christmas tree I purchased a few years ago. It was well past time. I still have a couple of Halloween decorations hanging up—yeesh!
Being one to never let a good thing go to waste, I decided to take some pictures of my tree, as well as make a video showcasing the little guy in all his multicolored glory.
During the long week between Christmas and New Year’s, I found myself struggling against some manner of illness (not The Virus, it seems, thank goodness). I ran a low-grade fever for a couple of days, then suffered with a sore throat and some fatigue for a few days afterwards. Fortunately, with the week off, I was able to hole up in Port Manor in Lamar, and regular reader and neighbor Bernard Fife brought me some homemade Christmas treats (and an at-home COVID-19 test, which came back negative).
I typically spend the holidays with my parents, or at least surrounded by family. That was the case leading up to Christmas, but my mystery malady thwarted my plans to return to my childhood home. Instead, from Tuesday (when the symptoms started coming on) through Sunday, I largely stayed home, with some occasional outings for groceries and the like as my condition began to improve (and once I realized I’d avoided the scourge of The Virus).
Needless to say, that is a lot of time at home. I am very much a homebody, and like being there, but the demands of work, lessons, family, friends, and all the other social and professional obligations I get myself into mean I rarely get days alone at home.
Be careful what you wish for: I had six days at home thanks to illness. Had it not been for being sick, though, it would have been glorious. Even so, it was pretty great.
As I breathlessly reported two weeks ago, I attempted to build a small frog pond in one of my rear flower beds using Tupperware containers, dirt, rocks, old planters, and mulch. I dubbed the watery domain “Frogtopia,” hoping it would attract neighborhood toads and frogs to his muddy environs.
After two weeks—and a new addition, using a large and deep IHOP to-go container—I must concede that Frogtopia is, at least so far, a failure. While the WikiHow article I used as a reference guide suggests that it can take a year or two for frogs to show up to a frog pond, I can already see a major structural problem with my attempted design.
The problem, in one word: evaporation.
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I love home. Being at home is one of the simple joys in life, especially for a homebody like me. Even before I owned my own home—when I was a lowly renter—I cherished time in my little pre-deluge bungalow.
Owning my home has made that appreciation even deeper. As I am sure I have written before, I can understand why the Framers of the Constitution required property ownership as a requirement to vote. Sure, I understood it in the abstract before I owned my house, but the wisdom of that prerequisite became real once I became a homeowner. There is an immense pride that comes with owning a home, and with it, a protectiveness: a desire to guard that investment, and to nurture it.
Few people with that sense of protective pride would squander their rights easily. I understand why that is better than ever.
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With the unlimited free time of summer, I can finally get some work done in the yard. I’ve finally transplanted my potted tomatoes and peppers into my flower beds—probably way too late—after getting up weeds this weekend. I need to get out with the weed trimmer soon to get the edges of the house and around the grapevines and fig tree, but the beds are looking good, if a bit bare.
While pulling weeds Saturday, my girlfriend’s dog started nosing at a little frog—possibly a toad—hopping around in one of the rocky beds along the side of the house (I thought it might be a gopher frog, but now I think it’s more likely a Southern toad; if anyone can tell from the video, please leave a comment):
I get quite a few of our amphibian friends around the house, often hiding out in planters and shady spots in the yard. After the Spooktacular in October, I found quite a few hunkering down inside of the ceramic and red clay Jack O’Lanterns and votives I had on the porch.
Indeed, one morning I found one chilling on my toilet seat! I sucked him into my vacuum’s canister and emptied him safely outside.
I have always loved frogs (just not when they’re hanging out in my bathroom), and I’m delighted that so many of them live around my house. In doing some research on frogs and toads in South Carolina, I stumbled upon a WikiHow article entitled “How to Make a Frog Home in a Garden.”
Given my free time and desire to spruce up the yard, I jumped at the opportunity to put together a small frog pond of my own, which I installed Wednesday.
Friday night I hosted my Spring Jam, the second front porch concert I’ve staged (the first was the Spooktacular, which will be back again this October). I’ll be writing a detailed review of Friday’s concert this weekend, and will catch up this week on some of the details of preparing for it (apologies, subscribers, for the delayed post).
The evening was a great deal of fun, with around forty attendees at any given moment (some folks stuck around for the whole thing, while others came and went). We sold t-shirts, hot dogs, baked goods, and drinks, and took in tips and donations to pay our musicians. I even managed to sell one of my pieces of artwork (!!!; the other one is still available). One of my musician buddies and fellow bloggers, fridrix, showed up unexpectedly, and treated us to a surprise, three-song set, including his open mic song about open mics, “Fish Bowl.”
Of course, with all those people on the front lawn—and my niece and nephews running around with other kids inside the house—there was a good bit of cleaning up to do afterwards. We knocked out the outdoor teardown fairly quickly, which meant throwing everything inside. As such, my house was a wreck.
With my senior students graduating Saturday morning—and Memorial Day Weekend fun looming large—I had to put off the long task of restoring order to my home until Monday.
It’s another Lazy Sunday, a day of rest and reflection, a day to forget—albeit briefly—about life’s responsibilities. And yet, here we are, reading a Lazy Sunday about responsibility.
I’ve been meditating on this topic more lately, and how difficult and important it is to be responsible. One very sobering realization is that, as a public figure (albeit a very, very minor one), my words and actions have an impact on my community, and must be considered carefully.
That’s also true of teaching. The Bible says that teachers who mislead the young are bound for hellfire. Yikes! That’s a massive responsibility.
So, on this day when we’re all desperately forestalling the start of another workweek by cramming in leisure (or putting in work to make the rest of the week easier), here is a trio of pieces about responsibility:
Well, that’s it! Here’s hoping these posts about responsibility didn’t bog down your Sunday with weighty thoughts of the troubles of the world, but rather offered a sense of the joys that responsibility brings.
Happy Sunday!
—TPP
Other Lazy Sunday Installments:
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Last Wednesday I wrote a piece, “The King of One’s Castle,” in which I wrote about the joys of home ownership, and the sense of import that goes with that responsibility. Putting time in working on and around the house gives me a sense of accomplishment, and deepens the pleasure of ownership.
As a corollary to that post, I’d love to offer up this slight counter: to whom much is given, much is required. I’ve been hearing that bit of Biblical wisdom from Luke 12:48 my entire life, often when I resisted doing something with my musical or oral talents (I possess a deep, rich, chocolate-y radio voice, and am often called upon to announce).
I am blessed to have been given much by way of talents, though I quickly temper that proud statement with sincere humility—there are many others far more gifted and talented than I am. Nevertheless, I do think I possess some attributes that increase my responsibilities to those around me.
That burden is not always easily borne, but it must be, whether easily or not.
In the spirit of yesterday’s Subscribe Star post “Bric-a-Brac,” it seemed like a good time to do another miscellaneous edition of Lazy Sunday. Blogging daily means there are a plethora of miscellaneous posts that don’t necessarily fit into any major category, but as I noted in yesterday’s post, miscellany is the spice of life.
Well, that’s it! Here’s hoping you enjoy this slightly-belated edition of Lazy Sunday.
Happy Sunday!
—TPP
Other Lazy Sunday Installments:
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***NOTE: This link is NOT a subscription to my SubscribeStar Page; it is for a one-time donation/tip via PayPal. To subscribe to my SubscribeStar page, use this URL: https://subscribestar.com/the-portly-politico***